


The Atom in God

by NoodleMusic



Category: Avatar (2009), Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Culture, Aliens, Altean Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Avatar, Bioluminescence, Cereal, Fantasy, Flying, Galra Keith (Voltron), Guerilla Warfare, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Physical Disability, Science Fiction, Shiro nearly dies, Violence, White-haired Keith, idk yet, just the one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 08:42:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15311730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoodleMusic/pseuds/NoodleMusic
Summary: The alien world of Nyxverra, colonised by Alteans and Galran refugees after their planet's destruction, is a paradise wherein both races can live harmoniously.Due to the dangerous environment of the planet, Avatar bodies are linked to human minds to roam Nyxverra.Keith Kogane, is chosen in his half-brother's place to go to Nyxverra to serve as a security escort to scientist Matt Holt. Through the use of one such Avatar he finds himself able to move his formerly paralysed body.(James Cameron Avatar AU)Edit: first chapter tweaked slightly





	The Atom in God

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing anything for a fandom. First time writing fanfiction. Hopefully, you like it. It's a James Cameron Avatar AU of sorts.
> 
> Don't take anything in this fanfic too seriously, literally aside from the destroyed planets thing nothing is canon so just let it go. I just made it for fun. I don't have anything solidified yet. Right now just playing it by ear.
> 
> Edit: first chapter sucked. I realised it wouldn't have much of a plot later on if there's no Shiro. Re-wrote the last bit.

It had been quite awhile since Keith had gotten any decent sleep. He caught himself at the crosswalk nearly nodding off before he remembered where he was as the light already green and beeping like mad, resigned him to grip the rubber and push.

It had been hot earlier that morning, this resulted in a slight haze that hung just above people's heads once the cold had come down, this time bringing with it the presence of light rain. With his arms and shoulder stiff from pushing his chair all day, the cold only served as both a relief and an irritation to Keith's overheated skin and tight muscles.

One more turn and he'd be home. Keith knew this but his muscles moaned for a break.

Keith ignored it.

He turned left where the gaudy neon lights and holographic ads no longer shone. A nondescript alley, where his apartment was squeezed between another run down brick and a hole in the wall he spent wasting away time and spending what was left of his benefits for one more shot.  
As of now, Keith decided that since he had earned it. He would rest. Find another job that would hopefully hire a paraplegic. Keith knew that wouldn't happen though. Doctors told him he had to wait. That he would move up on the list soon.

Keith's patience was never his strong suit. Regardless of that, he found himself trying and hoping for something to change. A call from a job or his name to move up. His benefit allowance to increase miraculously. He hated being stagnant. Not for the first time, Keith found himself cursing the unfairness of it all.

It was the same every day after his recovery. Wake up, go online and see if his name on the list was any closer to being next. Although, Keith had no doubt it probably would never be. He knew he didn't have enough. Probably never would at the rate he's spending more than earning at this point. He would wander aimlessly around town looking for something to do. He had tried looking for jobs, asking around town.  
He asked and they said they would call him later.  
He was always turned down or forgotten. His drinking mates joked often that it must be because of Keith, in spite of being able to at least hold a semblance of faked politeness, couldn't see over any counter of any shop or bar he could work for.

Keith laughed with them.

They knew him well there. Keith liked it there. The only ones who treat him as if balancing a shot on his forehead and downing it as he balanced on only the back wheels of his wheelchair was a feat worthy to be sung. Although, he had to admit, that the trick was the first time with a receptive audience. That or it could be the drinks that mellowed them out.

The high wore off an hour later. The game was on the big screen, most flocking to it like moths to a flame.

"Hey man, never realised it before but you don't have a pollution mask do you?" Nemaiah took a seat on a wobbly stool, drinking out of a swirly straw out of all things.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"I know you're probably tired of hearing it -" Keith rolled his eyes, Nemaiah steamrolling over it in his nervousness. "but you need to take better care of yourself."

Keith drank from the bottle before speaking, his tone deadpan. "I get this talk from Shiro almost every day, I don't need to hear it from you too."

Nemaiah tugged his red curls, "Exactly, you're worrying him and you usually listen to him, man. This makes ME worry and I don't want to have to deal with whatever angst you've got on you any more than I have to."

Keith was silent for a moment until Nemaiah sighed loudly, opting to change the subject instead. "Well, anyhow, how's Shiro?"

"Haven't heard from him in a week. Must be busy with science stuff." Keith made a face.

". . . You know he'd help if you just asked." Nemaiah prodded the subject once more.

Keith, already feeling like shit after having just woken and wheeled himself to the KissToad, decided to shut him down. "And I already told you, he's busy! And it's not like I can't do it on my own."

The redhead merely raised his glass to his lips and drank at that response. He knew where Keith was going with this, had heard it dozens of times before.  
Keith kept going, alcohol loosening his lips, "This isn't anything new. Shiro's already done a lot to help me and I don't want to be the reason he stops in his - scientific conquest!"  
Nemaiah downed his drink and waved over another server girl tipping her generously. Keith ignored the tinge of envy at the cash in his wallet. He went on, "He's going to space in how many days, I don't want to be the one that ruins it all for him."

Nemaiah stopped and nodded at that. "Uh-huh, I hear you. But picture this," he sidled up to Keith pulling him to his side, other arm outstretched with a bottle of beer in the air as if retelling a tale. "You - Keith Kogane - could HELP Shiro with his science. As a sidekick to Shiro's Splendid Space Soujourn! God, what a mouthful. . ."

Keith looked at Maiah stupidly, responding with, "I don't know any science. Aside from dissecting a frog once."

"Not the point I was trying to make but I see you're point and now my point just seems stupid and now you're making me feel like a jerk -"

Keith tuned him out. And there he saw it. The reason why he nearly lost faith in all humanity. The strong preying on the weak, pushing others around for no reason aside than to feel strong and powerful and in control of everything. The type of people who made him believe he was nothing.

He had hit her. Keith could see at least three people who clearly saw what happened but weren't doing anything.  
Over Nemaiah's shoulder, he spied the couple. They were standing close together, the man whispering hurriedly, impatiently, angry at the blonde woman. All of a sudden her demeanour changed from frozen to forced happiness.

He bought her a drink.

"-ou listening to me? C'mon Keith, I said I was sorr-hey where are you going?"

"Stay here." He wheeled away from Maiah, taking one more sip before leaving.

Keith knew how this would end. Should have probably walked away, except he technically couldn't. Keith's logic determines that, since he couldn't technically walk away, he most likely shouldn't. For Keith, it made sense.  
He could talk to him, he knew. Violence is never the answer, Shiro would sometimes say, except when it can't be helped. This situation could either go nicely or end with a loose tooth but Keith knew that this guy wouldn't listen. These types almost always relapse. Whether it be on drugs or drinking or hitting women and children. They're the types that are never satisfied, always looking over the horizon for something interesting, their urges one of the hardest to satiate.

Keith supposed he could do him a favour and make his night more interesting.

This was something he knew.  
He pulled out the stool. Keith grabbed a leg of the stool he had been sitting on and pulled. He fell on top of him with an elbow in the soft part of his gut when he tried to get back up, followed by a back fist to the face.  
They were wrestling on floorboards now, the man beneath him, although winded still roared in pain as Keith retaliated with a cut to the jaw. He kept punching then.  
He heard a click of teeth and the click of cameras, shouts of encouragement and the feel of his shirt being tugged from behind. The woman who had been abused, yelling for him to stop.  
The man tried to get back up again, rolling them over, fist clenched but went down once more, Keith's punch connecting with the man's nose with an audible snap. He yelled obscenities and eventually kicked him off and kept kicking.  
Keith caught his ankle and yanked. The man went down again.

The bartender came then with help from the door staff, wrenching him away. He didn't fight them off. When the bartender asked who instigated the fight, the woman pointed to him. The bartender looked at her more sober appearance and wordlessly pointed to the two bouncers guarding the back door. They carried Keith to the exit.

He was thrown without care into the back alley of the pub face first. His wheelchair came next.  
Keith grunted. Pain flaring at his shoulders and spine, he glared at the two as they chuckled.

"I hope you realise you just lost yourself a customer!" The door slammed shut. Keith grimaced, as he turned himself around. His shirt soaking up the puddles of rainwater. Keith smiled. That had been the most fun he'd had in weeks.

It bubbled up from his chest and out into the air. His mirth, his laughter. Had he cracked? No, he hadn't. It was unbelievable that Keith would find himself in a situation like this now. Especially in his condition. He stopped laughing at that.

What would Shiro think of him?

He looked up and watched the monorails go by. It was too bright now. He could no longer see the blue of sky with the number of holograms littering the cityscape. Keith could see an ad about Coke.

He heard swearing from around the corner. It was Nemaiah. He would know about that dumb voice anywhere.

"Keith! Keith! Shit where the fu - KEITH!"

He came to a stop, his hands on his knees face the colour of the door they just threw him out of. Keith would have to find another haunt after this.

Nemaiah drew a breath in, "Okay, admittedly a good fight, but for real man, what the crockpot?"

"Step off, you're ruining my good mood."

Nemaiah chuckled, "You need, uh, help?"

"No, I just wanna lay with the garbage for a while."

"Alright, I'll not see you tomorrow because you, just got kicked out. Yeah, that did just happen, didn't it?"

"Maiah?"

Nemaiah got up out of his squat and stood, raising his hands in a placating gesture, "Going already, I get the message. . . Don't be a stranger Keith." He walked away. He listened to his footsteps echo along the cobblestone before he was well and truly gone.

Keith turned back to the sky, or what was left of the sky. He heard tales of before of what the sky looked like. At day there would be white clouds with a blue sky. Keith had only seen a grey sky and grey clouds at times, however, Keith remembered in the rural area he grew up that the sky was indeed blue. At night, the sky would be midnight blue, or black. He would look up and he could see lights shining off in the distance. Not pink, red or blue but a pure white. So far out of reach; Keith wished he was Shiro sometimes when he was a child. He merely figured that wasn't meant for flying.

At least fifteen minutes must have passed once Keith decided he should get back to his apartment and change until he was approached by two strangers. They were dressed too nicely in a place like this. Keith figured they must have been here for business. Although the only business he could think of that would require being dressed nicely in a place like this would be a mafia or gang or some sort. However, this couldn't be the case. Keith knew that although this part of town had bad things happen occasionally, it wasn't like you would find much gang activity on the streets and even then -

"You Keith Kogane?"

He turned to them, eyes narrowed. "Why? Who's asking?"

"It's him alright, just had his hair touched up though from the looks of it." The squat man with the double chin tucked a hologram ID card to his breast pocket.

The normal questions came to him. How they knew him, why were they there, what are they here for. . . Keith knew he hadn't signed up for a job with employers that were as shady as these two.  
There wouldn't be any escape plans. Maybe along the way of where they might be kidnapping him.  
Keith wouldn't delude himself. They had functioning legs and he would need to set up the chair first, that is if the chair was undamaged still. 

"Who are you?"

"We're merely messengers." It was practised and well rehearsed. Reading off from a menu of cliche sentences.

It clicked into place then. "Shiro -"

"He's fine." The man said in a heavy and weary tone that suggested everything wasn't fine. 

"What's happened with him?" 

The man grimaced, "He got caught up in an accident." 

Keith gulped, his throat suddenly dry, "What kin-"

"Look, this would be a whole lot easier if you, uh, could just see yourself. He's fine. In an induced coma." He tacked that last bit on nonchalantly and sniffed. 

Are they serious? Keith couldn't believe it. 

He clenched his fists pebble and dirt burrowing under his nails. "What happened? Answer me, for real this time." 

> 


End file.
